


I Gave Everything to the Filthy Man

by WhyArentIBlessd



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Nakedness, charity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-30
Updated: 2013-12-30
Packaged: 2018-01-06 18:11:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1109992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhyArentIBlessd/pseuds/WhyArentIBlessd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>By chance, a certain priest that way: when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. And likewise a Levite, when he was at the place, came and looked [on him], and passed by on the other side. But a certain Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where he was: and when he saw him, he had compassion [on him], And went to [him], and bound up his wounds, and took care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Gave Everything to the Filthy Man

"Cas, where are your shoes?" Sam looked up at the angel standing in the doorway, dripping rainwater on the motel room's shabby doormat. It clung to his skin, shining in the artificial lights inside, and it dripped steadily from his hair as he stared at them with something akin to shame on his face. He was, as Dean had already noticed, barefoot. Same saw his brother glance at him, grinning, and scowled.

' _He wouldn't-_ ' "Did you 'lose them'?"

"Shut up, Dean." Sam growled,

"Bitch," Dean tossed back over his shoulder as he scavenged a towel from the bathroom for the angel to use.

"Jerk!" Sam shouted after him, flipping the page of his book casually and returning to his research. He heard the towel hit the angel with a muffled 'thwack' and laughed once to himself, glancing up to see Castiel rubbing the towel vigorously against his face. "So where  **are**  your shoes, Cas?"

"I gave them to a filthy man." The angel met Sam's eyes easily, pulling the towel off his head to reveal his now fluffy and dry hair. "He was in need of them more than I. I am indifferent to temperatures. He was obviously suffering."

"Ah," Dean drawled, dropping onto the couch beside Sam without ceremony and a beer in one hand. "the old 'Good Samaritan' routine. Very touching,"

"That samaritan was a good man." Castiel replied calmly, "He did my Father's will the way it's supposed to be done. Do not mock him, Dean." He tossed the towel over the back of his chair and crossed the room smoothly, brushing the creases from his firmly-buttoned trenchcoat.

"Jeez, alright," Dean grumbled, holding his hands and beer up around his ears. "take off your coat and stay a while,  **preacher**."

"I can't." Castiel looked away, his hands fisting in the sides of his coat.

"You 'can't'," Dean repeated, staring at Castiel blandly. "What the hell do you mean, Cas? It's a coat, not your pants."

"I gave everything to the filthy man." Castiel said again, and suddenly Sam's mind clicked.

"Oh." Sam said awkwardly, trying not to laugh. "Oh, well then."

"What?" Dean demanded, spinning around to face his sniggering younger brother. "What's so funny?"

"It's ok, Dean," Sam waved his brother away and covered his laughter with a cough. He looked at Castiel again, a shit-eating grin that reminded the angel of Gabriel spreading across his face, and folded his hands over his closed book. "And by everything you mean..."

"Not my coat." Castiel said quickly, pulling the lapels up closer to his stubbly chin. "I've grown fond of this coat." He blinked and stared at Sam in confusion when the taller Winchester started to laugh again at his expense. "Sam, why are you laughing? The samaritain was a good man, and I've only honored him by following his example."

"Oh God, Cas," Sam snorted, letting his head fall back against the arm of the couch. "I can't even- just go." He covered his face with one large hand, looking away from the angel with a wide, toothy grin, and he kept laughing quietly until Dean spoke up.

"Goddammit, Cas, just take off the coat and sit down or something. You just  **standing there** is creeping me out."

"I wouldn't-" "Dean, that's not a good idea." Castiel told him before Sam could, a hand clutching the collar of his own coat nervously, and he looked down at himself. "Like I said, I gave everything to the filthy man."

"Cas," Dean growled, setting his beer down hard on the side table. "stop with all your cryptic angel hoodoo!" He turned around, kneeling on the couch cushions, and stared the angel down harshly. "Take off the coat. Stop being an ass." His eyes burned into the dark-haired angel until the vessel's shoulders slumped and his head bobbed weakly.

"Alright, Dean," Castiel said plainly, and before Sam could close his eyes he was stark naked and the coat was pooled at his feet. "is that better?' Sam choked and squeezed his eyes shut, begging God to erase everything he'd just seen of Jimmy Novak, but he doubted anyone but Lucifer could hear him over Dean's outraged cursing and shouting.


End file.
